“You and my mother are both making me crazy.”
Kitty jumped up on the kitchen table and began to nibble some scrambled eggs spilled there earlier by a guest.
Abby shooed the cat off the table and then searched through the labels in the pantry for people-food a cat might like. “Mushroom soup, green beans, chamomile tea, spaghetti, tuna—tuna, yuck. Better you than me.” After emptying the canned fish into a plastic dish, she threw the sheets in the dryer, grabbed a piece of fruit from the bowl on the counter, and opened the back door. Kitty slipped out and disappeared around the corner. Abby went in search of Jack. The buzz of a saw behind the barn made it easy.
Munching on a Fuji apple, Abby paused to watch Jack work. With his back to her, the muscles across his bare shoulders rippled as he fed planks of pine across two sawhorses and through a circular saw. One rivulet of sweat trickled from his hairline to a mid-point on his back, a fascinating slow-motion descent. His fair skin glowed with a hint of sunburn-red. Bits of sawdust floated in the air like confetti around his white-blond hair—the same color as hers. Destiny? Khaki shorts topped muscular, blond-furred calves. She wantedto want him. A real guy, not an apparition. Maybe if she tried harder a connection would spark, and she could forget about her feelings for Silas.
Abby scrunched the waves in her hair and ran her little finger across the lip-gloss on her lower lip. She took a crunchy bite of apple just as the saw bisected the final board and it thudded to the ground.
Jack jerked upright and whipped around. “What the hell are you doing, sneaking up on me like that?” He shielded his eyes from the sun with one hand. The other hand held the power saw. “Sorry. Guess I’m a little jumpy, eh?” He walked to her—the saw still humming in his right hand.
Abby took a step back as the trailer for a chainsaw horror movie played in her mind. She stared at the blade of the saw, gleaming and sharp in the sun. “What’re you doing?”
Jack turned it off and sat it on the ground. A sudden, easy smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “You startled me, that’s all. I got focused on the job. Sorry about the language. My vocabulary got worse in college, not better. My dad freaks when I swear, says ‘that’s not the education I pay for.’” He wiped a red bandana across his sweaty forehead. “It’s getting hot. Want to keep me company on a break?”
Abby kept her distance, attracted and repelled by Jack, all at the same time. “My mother has a job for you in the house.”
“Sure. What’s she need?” Jack picked up a pale blue T-shirt the color of his eyes from the stack of wood against the barn and pulled it over his head. “I might be a little stinky for an inside job, but I’m ready to serve.” A tight smile appeared on his lips as he saluted. “Do I need the tool box or just my magic hands?” He held up both hands, palms out, and wiggled his fingers.
Abby smiled. Bad guys didn’t wander around on bicycles searching for roofing jobs so they could terrorize people. She smiled again at the thought of a bad guy on a bike. And at how little there would be to steal, even if that’s what he had in mind.
“I’m forgiven for my foul mouth?” Jack said. “I’ll remember my manners in the house, Mademoiselle.”
Abby laughed. “I can’t say it in French, but no worries.”
“Merci,” Jack said. “That’s how you say thank you in French. Either way, I promise to behave myself. What do you need? I’ll bring the duct tape; it’s good for any job.”
“There’s a hole in the wall that needs fixed—it’s a long story. But I don’t think any kind of tape will work.”
Jack laughed and gathered tools and a can of patching plaster from the barn. He followed her inside to the third floor, sneezing at the top of the steps. “Must be the plaster dust. I should have brought a mask.” He pulled the bandana from his back pocket and tied it around his nose and mouth, making him look like a bandit. The cotton muffled his voice. “What happened? I missed the earthquake.”
“I heard sounds behind the wall last night. When I pushed on the plaster it crumbled.” Abby held her hand to the hole. “Feel this; there’s a draft. Let’s take out another section and see what’s behind here before we seal it up.”
Jack knocked against the wall, and then around the edges. “It’s hollow, but I think the lumber is for support, not a doorframe. Walls are empty spaces, with wires, studs, and pipes behind them. And sometimes rats.” He pulled down the bandana, wrinkled his nose, made a silly rat face, then shrugged. “It’s not some archeological site. Don’t make this more than it has to be. We’ll only have to remove a little more plaster for a neat repair; no big deal.” He got the tools out of the gray plastic toolbox. “Great; no putty knife. I’ll be right back.”
After he left, Abby considered the space in front of her. He said to remove some plaster; why not get a peek at what’s back there? What does he know? He’s a roofer. It’ll have architectural interest for him. I hope.
Abby picked up the work gloves Jack had dropped and put them on, even though they were two sizes too large. She inserted her hand into the space, careful to avoid the rough edges. Grasping a handful of plaster, she pulled; a section of wall crumbled away, leaving a now-gaping opening. Nothing but black could be seen inside, but she got the sense of open space, not a jumble of wires and wood.
She retrieved a small flashlight from her bedroom, pink with her name painted on the side in purple nail polish. Her mind’s eye saw something else. Holding her dad’s hand in the hardware store … countertop at eye level … begging for a flashlight so she could be his helper … Abby sighed.
Returning to the wall, she shined the light into the inky-dark hole and gasped. As the thin beam moved across the void, it illuminated brick walls and wooden steps. Cobwebs swaying from bare wood strips decorated the low ceiling.
Jack returned and leaned in next to her. “Mon Dieu, what did you do? I said take out a little more plaster, not destroy the whole thing. You should’ve waited for me.”
“Check it out.” Abby handed him the light. “We have to take down the entire wall.”
Jack rolled his eyes but peered in the opening. He whistled. “Very cool. Must have been a servants’ entrance of some kind. Wonder where it ends up?”
“Once we open the wall, we’ll find out.”
“Whoa, wait a minute. Your mother said to fix it, not to make it worse. And she’s the boss. When you two decide what to do, let me know. I’ll come back for the tools if she decides on demolition instead of repair. For now I have a barn roof to finish, Cherie. You know, real work.” Jack blew her a kiss and left.
Abby put both hands on her hips. She had Jack’s tools and two strong arms. And she didn’t mind taking the heat from Lisa. She smiled when she heard footsteps. “I knew you couldn’t stay away, Jack. Let’s get this wall down.”
“Uh, sorry to disappoint you. It’s just me.” Morton crossed the hallway. “What’re you doing?”
“You’re just in time.” Abby lifted her hand in the air.
Morton gazed at her, eyebrows raised. “You’re glad to see me?”
“You’re not gonna believe it. There’s a set of steps hidden behind the wall, and we’re going to excavate it.”
“Like an archeological dig?”
“Exactly. Feel around here, the raised area; it’s a big rectangle. Help me rip out the plaster in the center. I want to get it done to surprise Lisa.”
Morton gulped. “Is this gonna be a good surprise or one of those that get us in trouble? Cause I don’t want any problems with your mom.”
Abby shrugged. “I’m doing this. You can help or not. I’ll take full responsibility with my mother.” She picked up a hammer and heaved it at the wall. Chunks of plaster, dust, and old wallpaper flew through the air. She laughed and took another big swing.
Morton blinked several times, then reached into the toolbox and grabbed a rubber mallet, attacking the wall with gusto. “All right. This is great. Extreme Old House Makeover meets Indiana Jones.”
In the aftermath of demolition, silence hung as heavy in the air as the thick dust. Morton wheezed and Abby coughed as the grime settled on them.
“Hilarious.” Abby laughed. Morton’s face, hair, and clothes were covered with a matte white layer of powdery plaster. When he took off his glasses the area around his eyes appeared smooth and clean. “Now you’re a raccoon.”
“Yeah, well, you look like one, too,” Morton whispered. “Now what?”
“We check it out,” Abby whispered back. “Why are we whispering? No one else is here, and even if they were, it doesn’t matter. Go into the bathroom and get the flashlight under the sink.” She pulled the pink penlight from her pocket.
Abby shined the light around the edge of the opening. A wooden frame surrounded it. Bits of plaster, hunks of old wallpaper in faded floral prints, and a few bent nails adorned the lumber. It looked old, the wood grayish-white and splintered in places.
“You were right, it is a doorway,” Morton said, returning with an old metal flashlight. “Does this thing still work?” He turned the glass end toward his face and flicked the switch. A wide, bright beam of light illuminated his eyeglass lenses.
“Now you look like an alien. This is serious business; I can’t work with an alien.”
“Yeah, funny.” Morton turned the light off and on. “You might need my special powers in that dark hole.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Abby swapped flashlights with Morton and shined the wide beam into the aperture. A set of wood steps descended into darkness. Rough red bricks, joined together with daubs of coarse mortar, created a passageway. The low ceiling had exposed beams. It smelled musty, even though a slight air current ruffled Abby’s hair and propelled lazy bits of debris. A layer of fine dust covered the steps.
“Check it out. Some animal must have been in here.” Morton pointed to one set of paw prints in the dust.
“I’ll explain later.”
Abby put one foot on the first step, testing it. Although the wood creaked, it held firm. “I’m going down. Follow me, but wait until I get to the next step.” She looked at the strain of T-shirt against Morton’s abdomen. “We don’t want to put too much weight on any step at once. And be careful.”
“Yeah, okay.” Morton reached into his right pocket and pulled out a handful of M&M’s. “Want some?” When she shook her head he tossed them all in his mouth, jaws opening and closing like a bulldozer.
Abby carefully put all her weight on the first step, then the second. She braced herself against the brick wall; the rough stones chilled her hand. The flashlight illuminated the near area, but the light got swallowed up into blackness below. One step at a time she moved downward, farther into the gloom.
After several stairs, she whispered back to Morton. “I see some light, but only in spots. I’m not sure where it’s coming from.” After a few more steps, she shined her flashlight straight ahead. “There’s a wall at the bottom. I’ll bet it’s that blocked-up alcove in the kitchen—the one I thought could be an old fireplace. We might have to go back up.”
“There isn’t much space in here to turn around.”
“Quit whining. It’s just an ancient set of steps. Probably a servants’ entrance or something, that’s what Jack said.”
“This is an old farmhouse, not a Victorian mansion,” Morton said. “I don’t think farmers had servants, no matter what Jack thinks.”
“We can worry about that later. I just want to get to the bottom.”
As she got closer to the base, each stair groaned louder, with soft spots in the center. “The wood might be rotted,” she called over her shoulder. “If it feels weak, stop right away or stand on the edge.”
Abby got to the next-to-the-last step and reached out for the partition at the bottom. Rough wood strips and the sharp metal of nail points met her fingertips. At the foundation of the wall, several chinks revealed light seeping through.
“Light’s coming from behind the wall. It has to be the kitchen on the other side.”
Focused on the panel instead of the tread, she put all her weight on the bottom step.
With a snap, the rotted wood splintered. Abby tumbled through the jagged hole where the step used to be, into free space below. She gasped as a large sliver ripped her arm on the way. The flashlight flew from her hand, followed by a dull thump and the tinkle of breaking glass. She landed with a thud, face down on packed earth in total darkness.
A scream lodged in her throat before she sank into unconsciousness.